Author's Note: And I'm back with Part 2! Thanks to everyone who read, favorited, and reviewed the first one. This part is definitely a shift in tone, but I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it as well. Without further ado, let the story begin!

Part 2: East 'Til Mongolia

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Nancy stared, mesmerized at the sight before her. The old camper looked like it had no right being anywhere but a junkyard. It was a metal monstrosity, a ramshackle beast, a catastrophe on wheels. It was, to put it plainly, horrifying.

"Hey Nance, you ready?"

She spun around, ready to ask Steve what was going on, but the question died on her lips. Steve—her husband—was almost unrecognizable. He wore a denim cutoff jacket and a red bandana tied around his head. Every visible part of his arms were covered in fake tattoos and he sported a hideous beard—also obviously fake.

"What the heck are you wearing?" she asked, feeling her eyebrows raise to her hairline. "You look like a hick."

He laughed, pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply. "Thanks, babe. You're a mighty fine hick yourself."

She gaped at him in astonishment. Her? A hick? Who was this man and what had he done with her husband?

Steve walked up to the camper and ran a hand worshipfully over its side. "She's a beauty, isn't she? Worth every penny we spent."

She felt herself go white. "It's...ours?"

He looked at her oddly. "Yeah. We just bought her yesterday—spent our entire life savings on her, remember?"

She stared at the rickety old camper. Their life savings. On this.

"Are you ready?" Steve asked. "I'm itching to get on the road."

"Where are we going?"

He shrugged easily. "I want to stop by the War Zone first for some last-minute supplies. After that, I figure we just keep driving east 'til we hit Mongolia."

She nodded slowly. She was sure there was something wrong with that statement, but her brain didn't feel like working it out just then.

"Come on." He took her by the arm. "The kids are already inside."

"Kids?" she squeaked. "W-Wait—"

She stepped into a scene of total chaos. There were children everywhere. Ten...no, closer to fifteen—all of them running around and screaming in a state of wild mayhem. She saw a girl crawling on all fours and snarling like a wild beast, while two other children whacked her with foam pool noodles.

"Take that, demodog!"

"Taste the fury of my bat!"

Another girl—probably five or six years old—raced past her, screaming bloody murder,

while a boy chased her with a flamethrower. An actual flamethrower, with real flames and everything.

The camper lurched and sputtered as Steve struggled to get it started. "Seven!" he barked

over his shoulder. "Stop chasing Nine with that flamethrower! How many times do I have to tell you that it's only for monsters? And for the last time, no—your sister is not a monster!"

"Fine." The boy gave an exaggerated sigh as he turned off the flamethrower and tossed it aside.

Seven...? Nine...? If they were going to have this many kids, couldn't they at least give them proper names? Or had they simply run out of inspiration after the first few?

With a sigh, she whipped out her journaling notebook and her favorite pen. It looked like she was stuck with these children, so the least she could do was learn what they were called.

"Ok!" she raised her voice authoritatively. "Which one of you is One?"

The kids fell silent in unison and stared at her. A boy who looked like he must be the oldest said, "None of us, mom. You and dad always said one was a bad number."

"Oh...right, of course." She smiled in embarrassment. She couldn't remember why at the moment, but that somehow made perfect sense. "Then you must be...Two?"

"My name is Fifteen," he said flatly.

She nearly hurled her notebook out the window in frustration. There was no sense, no order. It was only chaos.

She was startled by a loud thumping overhead. It sounded like something was repeatedly hitting the roof of the camper. "What's that?" she asked in alarm.

"Don't worry," Steve said, "I made sure I strapped them down securely. They're probably just having fun making noise."

"There are...kids up there?" she asked weakly.

"They're fine, Nance. I couldn't fit 'em all inside, so it was the best I could do. It's only our least favorites up there anyway, so even if the worst happens, well"—he shrugged—"no harm no foul, right?"

She felt suddenly faint. Faint and bone weary. She opened her mouth to reply—although she honestly had no idea where to start with such a ludicrous statement—when a small hand tugged on her arm. "Mom, baby needs his diaper changed. Here."

She took the child automatically, then recoiled when she got a better look at him. The body of was that of an infant, but the head was grossly oversized, and it was Dustin's face that grinned back at her.

Not knowing what else to do, she screamed.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"Nance!"

She started awake, gasping for breath.

"It's ok. I've got you," Steve said soothingly, enveloping her in his arms. "Was it another nightmare?"

They were both all too familiar with those. It had been over seven years since they killed Vecna and re-sealed the Upside Down, but the nightmares still came. She was beginning to think they wouldn't ever go away completely.

She shook her head as her breathing evened out. "It wasn't like that. It was more...weird than anything."

She explained the events of her dream while Steve listened, his expression growing

increasingly amused. "Do you think it's a sign?" he asked at last.

She put a hand protectively over her stomach. "What? That our baby's going to look like Dustin?" She shuddered as she recalled the sight of Dustin's head on an infant's body. The image was seared into her mind and she wasn't sure if she would ever recover.

Steve laughed and kissed her stomach tenderly. "Don't worry, Nance. Our little girl's going to look just like you."

"How are you so sure it's a girl?" He had been insistent on this from the first day he found out she was pregnant.

"I just know," he said, smiling enigmatically. "But what I meant was if it's a sign that we're supposed to have—what was it—fifteen kids?"

She gave a short, brittle laugh. "Yeah, right. I don't even know if I'm going to be able to take care of one child properly."

"Hey." He put a finger under her chin and gently tipped her face towards him. "You're going to be an awesome mom, Nance."

She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she was half as confident as he was. "You don't know that. Not all of us were born to be parents like you were."

He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I'm new to this whole baby thing too, remember? We'll figure it out together, ok? Just like we always do."

She smiled in spite of herself. That was one of the things she loved most about Steve. He always managed to coax a smile out of her—no matter how she was feeling. "Ok," she agreed quietly.

They lay in bed for a while, hand in hand, each of them busy with their own thoughts.

"Nance?" Steve asked after a while.

"Hm?"

"You know, I think we should buy a camper tomorrow. I'll get our life savings from the bank and then—"

"East til' Mongolia, right?" she said, catching onto the game.

He grinned roguishly and kissed her. "You stole the words right out of my mouth."

Author's Note 2: Thanks for reading this bit of silliness to the end! The idea popped into my head and it was just too hilarious to not bring to life. It was meant to be more of a joke/parody than anything, but I did add some sweet Steve x Nancy fluff at the end. The next part will be back to a more serious tone, and will include more of Steve, Nancy and the kids in the Hawkins gang (aka Steve's honorary children). Thanks again for reading, and as always, please leave a review to let me know what you think!